


intruder

by DianaSolaris



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:44:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DianaSolaris/pseuds/DianaSolaris
Summary: His name is a theft, and so are his memories. But all the same, when he looks at Shiro, he can't help but think, I should have been the original. Written for ElementKitsune - merry christmas have some angst!





	intruder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElementKitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElementKitsune/gifts).



> TW: Identity issues, that's mostly it

It’s frustrating, he thinks with a sigh that barely makes a sound, to be the extra. More than frustrating. It’s disorienting in a way he can’t quite comprehend, to walk into a room and see another man with his face there. It doesn’t help that every time, _every_ time it happens, he has to push away the thoughts that _he was here first,_ that the other man is the intruder –

-because, unfortunately, it’s not true.

He can’t hear Black anymore. He remembers how she used to sound, but even here, sitting against her leg, the room is too quiet.

The intruder Shiro (the original, he reminds himself) enters the room, and he tries not to flinch away as he sits down next to him. It’s just an overture of friendship, he tries to remind himself. But he can’t erase the feeling that every time they touch, he’s a little bit closer to subsuming himself in a man he can’t quite aspire to be.

“Hey,” Shiro says quietly.

The other doesn’t respond. _The other –_ well, that’s him now, isn’t it?

“I missed you at dinner.”

And the Other, the Clone, he swallows down his answer, and his anger, and anything that isn’t a short, sharp nod.

“Have you chosen a name yet?” Shiro asks. It’s meant to be kind.

The Other shakes his head.

“Do you want me to help?”

 _I don’t want your help,_ the Other almost screams. But then, another force taking over, another emotion flooding his brain, he nods.

A hand interlaces with his, metal against his flesh. “Are you scared of me?”

“Yes.” He bites the edges off the word because admitting to his fear is too much to bear easily.

But Shiro just smiles, the sadness lurking around his eyes a piece of him that was always _him –_ something the Other could never quite find in the mirror, even though he knew it was supposed to be there – and squeezes his hand. “That’s fair. Me too.”

The Other almost asks if Shiro means ‘afraid of _him_ ’ or ‘afraid of himself’. But then he lets it be, because ultimately it’s the same thing.

“Kuro,” he says finally.

“Your name?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro gives him another warm smile, then rests his head on Kuro’s shoulder. “I like it.” It’s a moment of intimacy Kuro has yet to understand – but it’s nice. It makes him feel a little more at home.

(-and in the end, it _is_ his home, too.)


End file.
